


Something Special

by hitmewiththatfanart33



Series: Sanders Sides Oneshots [11]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Creativitwins, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prinxiety - Freeform, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24932191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitmewiththatfanart33/pseuds/hitmewiththatfanart33
Summary: Virgil shows up to Roman's house late at night after getting a text from Remus. He's the only one who can get Roman to open the door after a rough day.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Series: Sanders Sides Oneshots [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796293
Comments: 2
Kudos: 108





	Something Special

Virgil found himself in his car at one in the morning because of a text from Remus saying that Roman had locked himself in his room after getting home from school and hadn’t come out since, and apparently now he was audibly crying. He said he’d tried everything, but nothing was working, and the only person he could possibly think of to pull him out was Virgil. What was so special about him that Remus thought he could succeed where he’d failed? He and Roman were close friends, yeah, but why not Patton or Logan, who had known him longer? He shook his head and kept driving, focusing on getting to Roman.

For some reason the usually dreamy light of the street lamps casting their light on his lap every few feet put him in a weird mood tonight. Something didn’t feel right, but then again, finding out Roman was anything less than bright and happy never did.

He parked against the curb in front of the tiny suburban house made mostly of brick, and hopped out, making his way to the door as quickly as possible. Remus opened it before he got the chance to knock, nodding at him solemnly. Virgil went inside, made his way to the hallway on the right side of the house, and softly knocked on the door at the end of it. “Ro? It’s Virgil. Will you open the door for me?” he asked gently. He could hear Roman shuffling around, then a drawer shut and a door closed. His closet probably.

Then there was silence, and Virgil sighed, moving to sit down with his back against the door. “We don’t have to talk… if you don’t want to. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “I’m gonna spend the night if that’s okay with you,” he said. A pause, then he tried again. “Please don’t make me sleep on the couch.”

Why wasn’t he responding? What had Roman this upset, and why hadn’t Virgil been able to tell that he was hurting like this sooner? “You don’t have to let anyone else in if you don’t want to, okay? Just me. I’ll even let you wear my hoodie... You know I don’t let anyone wear it, but I’ll make an exception since you’re so special.”

“No I’m not,” Roman croaked. He was just behind the door, but judging by how far up his voice sounded, he was standing.

“To me you are... and you can’t really change what a person finds special in their life,” he argued, though he kept an encouraging tone.

Roman didn’t answer, so Virgil kept going, watching Remus anxiously pace in the living room, far enough away to where he couldn’t hear them. “You know some people have a hobby they adore, or a show that changed their life, or a food they love, or a keepsake… Well I have you. You’re something I have that only a rare few get to enjoy, but even those few don’t get to see the Roman that _ I  _ get to see, you know? My hobbies are only really fun when you’re there. Shows are only good when we’re watching them together at an ungodly hour and you’re laughing that beautiful laugh of yours, which makes _ me _ laugh, and suddenly we’re both crying messes.” The memory had his heart thumping heavier than usual. “Don’t even get me  _ started  _ on food. The face you make when you take a bite of something you really like has me craving whatever you’re eating, and the only keepsakes worth anything to me are the ones with a memory of you.” 

As he was pouring his heart out, it was slowly dawning on him why Remus asked him to come over; why he didn’t hesitate even when it was late at night. And suddenly he knew for damn sure why all of this was coming so easily to him.

Roman was still unresponsive, but that was fine because he wasn’t done talking, and if he opened the door now, Virgil wouldn’t have the guts to keep going. “You have this look…” He swallowed. “... and it’s only reserved only for me. I’ve never really noticed you look at Logan or Patton like this… but it’s like I said something or I did something that just took your breath away. So… maybe look at me like that again?” It was an odd request, yet one he needed more than anything.

Then Roman was opening the door, and Virgil was scrambling to his feet now that his backrest was gone. Roman blinked a few times. His eyes were puffy and red, his favorite red hoodie with the gold crown that rested over his heart seemed to be the only thing holding him together other than the cold coat of numbness painted over him, and Virgil didn’t waste a second pulling his head into his chest to hold him tight. Roman slowly hugged him back, but it was a loose, I’m-barely-hanging-on sort of embrace. Virgil walked them inside the room so he could shut the door.

“Hey, handsome,” Virgil greeted, voice almost a whisper. He ran his hands through Roman’s hair and simply let him rest against his chest for now. “You tired?”

Roman nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you into something more comfortable and then you can have my hoodie if you want it. I  _ did  _ promise,” he said.

Roman pulled away, shaking his head and wiping at his eyes before turning to walk over to the bed, sitting. Virgil’s brow furrowed. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

Then next thing he knew, Virgil was gasping sharply. Crimson droplets slipped down from beneath Roman’s sleeve and onto his hands where they sat in his lap, and Virgil darted over to him without a second thought, taking his hands and searching his eyes for permission to push up his sleeves. He did so slowly, gently. 

His arms were slashed to hell. 

Oh  _ no _ . “Roman… Did you do this to yourself?” His words sounded fragile, and he knew the answer, but he didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want Roman to be in this much pain to where the only thing that gave him relief was tearing open his skin. Didn’t want Roman to think he deserved this. 

“What do you think?” It wasn’t angry, he wasn’t snapping at Virgil… He just sounded broken. Sad and scared, almost guilty, like Virgil caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Which… he wasn’t. He really wasn’t, and if Virgil could keep him from ever doing this again, that’s exactly what he’d do. 

More tears slipped down Roman’s cheeks, and oh how Virgil wanted to sob right along with him, but he kept a face of stone to help Roman through this. “Come on. Let’s get you out of this. That’s gotta hurt having them rubbed against like that,” Virgil said. He didn’t tell Roman he was sorry, he didn’t lecture him on how it was bad and he shouldn’t be hurting himself, and he surely didn’t look at him any more different than he needed to. What he did do was  _ show _ him that he cared and get him through the moment. 

After he’d coaxed the hoodie over his head, he retrieved the first aid kit, a bottle of peroxide, and a hand-towel from the bathroom while Remus watched with a pallid hue. Virgil pressed his mouth into a thin line before going back into the room. What could he have possibly said?

He sat down on the bed again, opening up the large red plastic case, likely as big as it was in order to be able to deal with the result of all of Remus’ reckless…  _ adventures _ . He was just glad it wasn’t for Roman because if he’d done this more than once, Virgil might’ve just begun blubbering like a baby right then and there for not being there for him enough. Unless he’d done this somewhere else, in which case…

“Why are you here?” The sudden question, only the third thing Roman had said since he had arrived, startled Virgil out of his worried thinking. 

“Because I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said simply.  _ And you’re not, so I’m glad I’m here.  _

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear that gushy-ass speech I just gave?” Roman didn’t so much as crack a smile, and Virgil’s face went back to a soft frown. “I care about you, Roman, and I know you probably don’t think you’re worth it right now, but you are, and one day you’ll see that too. It’s hard to see outside of yourself sometimes.”

He laid the towel across Roman’s lap. “Okay, this is going to hurt like a bitch, but I need to wash these off,” he warned. Roman nodded, and Virgil knew it was because they both understood it wouldn’t hurt any more than the cuts themselves. 

Still, as the liquid ran over his skin, bubbling in the wounds and sending lighter red spilling over onto the towel, he hissed. Virgil folded the towel over each arm once he was done and had screwed the cap back on, lightly pressing down on it to absorb any wetness. Then, almost mindlessly, he began to bandage each arm as if he’d done it a thousand times before. 

“How do you know—” Roman began. It was a touchy subject for Virgil, but he answered anyway. 

“My mom.”

“Oh. I thought… I’m sorry.” Roman sounded like he was tearing up again, so Virgil paused what he was doing to cup a hand to his cheek. 

“It’s okay. Not your fault. It’s in the past anyways.” Virgil offered a grim smile, shrugging. Roman knew his mom was still alive, or else he would’ve said something because he knew how vague statements could leave people. 

“Well… I’ll stop. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this, so I’ll stop. I promise. It won’t happen again.” A reason was a reason, even if Virgil didn’t think it was the right one. He nodded. 

Finished, he put up the roll of bandaging and tape back into the kit, closing the lid and grabbing the towel and peroxide. Standing, he pressed a quick, firm kiss to Roman’s forehead. “I believe you. Be right back. Why don’t you get into some pajamas while I’m gone, yeah?”

Then he left the room, and Remus was still there when he shut the door behind him. “Is he okay?” he asked quietly. 

“He’s doing better. I promise I’ll take care of him,” Virgil responded.

“I know you will. Sometimes I think you’re the only one he’ll listen to.” Remus laughed tiredly, running a hand through the bleached streak in his hair. It was a unique choice to say the least, but it looked good on him. 

“Yeah… Don’t know why he decided to take an interest in me, yet here we are.”

“Right. I’ll let you get back to him.” Virgil nodded, and Remus slipped through the door across from the bathroom. 

He sighed, making his rounds to put stuff away as quickly as he could. 

And when he returned to Roman, the first thing he said to Virgil was, “I’ll take that hoodie now.” As long as it kept that smug little smile on his face, Roman could honestly keep it. 

  
  



End file.
